


In The Flesh

by rboudreau



Series: A.U.gust [1]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: A.U.gust, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Suicide, In The Flesh AU, M/M, Partially Deceased Syndrome, mentions of assault, undead boyfriends
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-08-01
Updated: 2014-08-04
Packaged: 2018-02-11 07:20:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2059062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rboudreau/pseuds/rboudreau
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Mickey and Ian were brought back to life during The Rising and must now deal with being alive once more.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> As mentioned in the tags, I do mention self harm/suicide/drug use in a couple paragraphs. Not very graphically, but if it triggers you at all, either skip that part or do not read this story.

Mickey snapped his head to look at Ian, his face overcome with a look of wonder. “The other graves were undisturbed?”

Ian huffed. “That’s what I said. The clock chimed to midnight, and I was overcome with this hunger--”

“Ian,” Fiona warned.

Mickey glanced at her quickly before returning his attention to Ian. “You were the only one up?”

“Christ, Mick, I already said that. May I finish my story?”

He goes on to talk about the hunger that he felt once he had risen from his grave, but Mickey hardly heard anything else. Ian Gallagher was the First Risen. Jesus. He had known when he’d first met Ian that he was special, but he had no idea he was _this_ special. The First Risen. He had been told the First Risen would be important, and now he was sitting right beside him. He examined Ian with what must have been a look of awe on his face. He could see where Ian had put a little too much mousse on his face, could see how it was just slightly darker than the skin on his neck. He desperately wanted to see Ian without the makeup and without the contacts in his eyes, to see the _real_ him.

“Ian, stop speaking right now,” Frank demanded. 

Ian let out a dark laugh. “What, so Steve here can talk about killing us and everything’s all well and good, but the second I mention the lives _I_ took, I have to shut up? That’s bullshit!” He shoved his chair back, standing from the table. “Come on, Mickey.” Mickey looks at Ian’s family around the table for second. He removes the napkin from his lap, placing it on the table, and stands up, following after Ian. 

**

“I’m sorry about all that,” Ian says quietly, staring at his hands as he sits on Mickey’s bed. Mickey squats down in front of him, giving him a small smile. He wipes a wet washcloth down Ian’s cheek, slowly revealing the pale skin beneath the mousse.

“You don’t have to be sorry about who you are,” Mickey answered. He finished cleaning Ian’s face and dropped the cloth to the floor beside him. Ian took his contacts out of his eyes, hesitantly looking at Mickey. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered. Ian smiled, looking down at his lap. Mickey looked down as well, watching Ian’s hands tangle together. He put a hand over Ian’s, his thumb tracing over the scar on his wrist. “Will you tell me about the night you killed yourself?”

Ian paused. “I…” He took in a deep breath. “I couldn’t...you were getting married,” he forced out. “You _got_ married, and I couldn’t do anything about it. You wouldn’t listen to me. You wouldn’t just tell me you loved me.” 

Mickey squeezed Ian’s hand tightly, remembering back before they had both died. They had been together for almost two years before Mickey’s father had found out and forced him to have sex with a woman who he then got pregnant. Terry had made him marry her, and Ian had begged Mickey to just admit that he loved him and that he was gay.

“And then you married her, and I couldn’t handle it. So I said goodbye and I joined up and I went to basic. Mandy texted me about you a few times, but something changed with me. I don’t know. But I left basic a week or two later, got a job at this gay bar, did a bunch of drugs...I took so many. And I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I just wanted the thoughts to go away. So I cut my wrists, and then I got cold, and the next thing I know, I’m climbing my way out of the ground.”

Mickey inhaled heavily. “So it _was_ my fault. When you were found…Lip didn’t want me at your funeral. He blamed me. I blamed me too.”

“It wasn’t...You didn’t put the blade to my wrists or the drugs in my mouth. I can’t blame you for what I did. It was my choice.” He cleared his throat. “After I got treated, after the Rising, when we had group, we came to the conclusion that I might have had bipolar disorder like Monica. That it might have been the reason I stole Lip’s ID and joined the army, then went awol and killed myself.” He played with Mickey’s fingers while they sat in silence. Eventually he voiced his thoughts. “How did you...you never told me how you…”

“Died?” Ian nodded. Mickey shrugged. “It was my fault you were dead. I didn’t ask you to stay. I didn’t tell you what you wanted to hear. I just let you go. So when they found you and Lip blamed me, I didn’t argue with him. After your funeral, everyone was having drinks at the Alibi. People that barely even knew you were there. I got trashed. Kev knew how I felt about you, and he kept giving me more drinks. I saw Terry drinking and laughing like nothing happened. I got everyone’s attention and told everyone that I was gay,” he said, looking up at Ian. “And how I loved you, and wished you were still alive so I could tell you.” Ian’s eyes widened, but Mickey kept going. “Terry flipped out, started screaming how he was going to kill me, and I didn’t even care. So when he came at me, I didn’t fight back. Every punch or kick he threw at me, I just felt more…free. Like I was finally going to be away from him and back with you.”

“No one tried to stop him?”

“I don’t know. I know Kev called the cops, but they didn’t get there until after I stopped breathing. I think everyone was too afraid he’d kill them too.” He squeezed Ian’s hands in his. “I know I can’t really feel that much anymore, but I know that letting you leave was the dumbest thing I ever did. And I know that if I _could_ feel...I’d still love you as much as I did back then. You were the only good thing in my life, and I never had the balls to tell you.”

“It’s okay,” Ian whispered.

Mickey shook his head. “No it’s not. I lost you once when you left and again when I found out you were dead. I’m not losing you again. I deserve to be dead if I lose you again.” He reached a hand up to Ian’s face, cupping it lightly. “I love you.” He leaned up, bringing their lips together in what was their first kiss since they were reunited after the Rising. Ian’s hands grasped at Mickey’s collar, tugging him closer as they kissed. 

“Shit,” Ian breathed as they broke apart for air. He traced his fingers across Mickey’s lips. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted to hear you say.” He kissed Mickey again, taking pleasure in the soft gasp that came from his lips. “I love you too.”

Mickey smiled, and Ian could have sworn for a second that his heart started beating again. He pulled Mickey onto the bed with him, laying down beside him and resting his head on Mickey’s chest. 

“One day, our hearts will start beating again. And we’ll be able to feel everything again.”

“You don’t actually believe that, do you?”

Ian shrugged, looking up to smile at him. “I didn’t believe in Risings and Partially-Deceased Syndrome before I died, but here we are. If we can come back from the dead, why can’t our hearts start beating again? It already feels like I’ve got part of my heart back with you here.”

Mickey ran his fingers through Ian’s hair and gave him a small smile. “You’re still as much of a romantic as you used to be.” 

Ian grinned, tucking his head into Mickey’s neck. 

“You’re always right about everything,” Mickey whispered into Ian’s hair. “I’m sure you’re right about this too.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey have a chat and administer each other's medication.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you haven't seen In The Flesh, first of all, you should. Second of all, the whole injection process and the drug is directly from the show, so there you are. 
> 
> Also, let me know if you like this AU, if you want to see more, or if you think I should stop.

Ian ran his fingers through Mickey’s hair repeatedly, sighing softly as Mickey curled into him.

“I don’t know why you do that,” Mickey mumbled, his eyes closing. “I can’t feel it. You can’t feel it.”

Ian shrugged, not stopping. “But we both know I’m doing it. And you never let me do it when we were alive before.”

He hums noncommittally. He looks up at Ian, resting his chin on Ian’s chest while he examines his face. Ian trails his fingers across Mickey’s forehead, down the slope of his nose, over his lips, and along the line of his jaw. Mickey can’t feel it, but it makes something stir in his stomach anyway. Any time Ian touches him is like a jolt of _something_ through his body. He can almost remember how it used to feel when Ian’s hands would cover his body while they were alive. 

Ian leans downward, pressing his cold lips against Mickey’s. His lips part, and their tongues brush against each other as though searching for how it used to feel. Ian wrapped his fingers around the back of Mickey’s neck, tilting him just slightly closer, soft kisses pouring down onto Mickey’s mouth. Mickey grabbed a handful of Ian’s shirt, eagerly holding him close.

A noise of protest left his lips as Ian placed a final kiss on his lips and pulled away. He almost felt dizzy with the lack of air he’d gotten. He dropped his forehead heavily onto Ian’s collarbone, taking a few deep breaths.

“God, I miss fucking. I miss being able to feel you. When I died, I thought I wouldn’t have to miss anything ever again because I’d be back with you. Now we’re back from the dead, and I can’t even get any satisfaction out of having you in front of me again.”

Ian chuckled. “What, just being here with me isn’t enough?” he teased. He brushed his nose against Mickey’s temple, smiling softly. “I miss fucking, too. Miss how you look when I’m inside you. I miss us fucking anywhere and everywhere we could.”.

Mickey huffs. “I can’t even get hard off you saying shit like that anymore. I found the downside to being reborn.” Ian laughed, squeezing his arms around him.

“When everything comes true, when our hearts start beating again...I’m never going to stop fucking you. We’re going to fuck and fuck and fuck until we die again.”

Mickey rolled his eyes, playfully nipping at Ian’s neck. “You say the most romantic shit.”

He grinned. “Anything for you.” He reached down, grabbing Mickey’s hand and lacing their fingers together. “I’d do anything for you,” he said seriously.

Mickey stayed silent, trying to soak in the fact that he was with Ian. He buried his face into Ian’s chest for a moment. “How about you administer my neurotriptyline for me?”

Ian smiled and nodded, gently nudging Mickey off of him and rolling over to face the bedside table. He grabbed the syringe gun and the bottle of neurotriptyline and screwed the bottle into its position. Mickey sat up next to him, his feet dangling off the bed. Ian pulled the neck of his collar down to reveal the small hole at the back of Mickey’s neck. He positioned the end of the syringe into the hole and squeezed, releasing the chemical into Mickey’s body. After it’s done, he placed the syringe down on the bed and brought his lips to the hole, kissing it lightly. He wrapped his arms around Mickey’s waist and kissed the hole again.

“Do me now?” he mumbled against Mickey’s neck.

Mickey chuckled. “You’ve never asked me _that_ before,” he teased. He started to turn around, but Ian tightened his grip on him and buried his face in Mickey’s neck.

“That’s so not true. That one time we were really drunk right after Labor Day?”

Mickey grinned, tilting his head to the side to give Ian better access. “Hmm, guess I forgot.”

Ian’s lips dragged along his shoulder. “I’ve never forgotten anything that happened between us,” he said quietly.

Mickey frowned, turning around to face him. Ian avoided his gaze, but Mickey nudged his head beneath Ian’s jaw. “I wish you’d forget the bad shit.” Ian stayed silent, his hand running up and down Mickey’s back gently. Eventually Mickey pulled back and leaned over to grab the syringe. “Turn around.”

Ian turned around, tilting his head downward so Mickey could move the collar of his shirt. Mickey put the syringe into the hole at the back of Ian’s neck and injected the neurotriptyline. He immediately put the syringe down and wrapped his arms tightly around Ian as he began to shake. Mickey knew that Ian tended to get flashbacks during his injections, mostly from during his untreated state, but sometimes from before he died as well. He held him until the shaking stopped, murmuring soothing words into the back of his neck. 

When Ian was himself again, Mickey slid his hand to Ian’s jaw and tilted it to the side to face him. Their eyes met and Mickey leaned in to kiss him purposefully.

He pulled back, resting his forehead against Ian’s temple, his nose brushing Ian’s cheek. “I know we’ve still got a lot of shit to work out,” he said. “I’ve got a lot of shit to make up for with you. You’re the sappy fuck who believes in second chances; I don’t know what’s a bigger second chance than being brought back from the dead.” He kissed the corner of Ian’s mouth, smiling as Ian leaned into it. “And if I’ve gotta tell you I love you every five minutes and sound like a total whipped pussy so that you’ll believe that _I’m in this_ , I will.”

Ian can’t help but to let out a laugh, shoving Mickey’s face playfully. He followed Mickey as he dramatically falls back on the bed and cuddled into him. “Don’t act like it’s a chore. You know you love me.”

Mickey nodded. “Not exactly denying it, here.”

Ian smiled, tracing patterns across Mickey’s face with the tips of his finger. “The afterlife was good to you,” he finally says. “So beautiful.”

Mickey rolled his eyes. “I guess we can be glad Terry didn’t bash my face in to kill me.” Ian laughed softly. “Look,” he says. “From what they told me in the institution, Terry’s in jail for the rest of his life. Svetlana and the kid got deported after I died. I don’t have anything stopping me from being who I am anymore. I don’t have to be afraid of him finding us. And I’m gonna do anything I can to make you happy.”

Ian looked into his eyes and he just knew that Mickey was being completely honest. He pressed a kiss against Mickey’s jaw and gave him a mock serious look. “Will you suck my dick whenever I want?”

Mickey groaned and pushed his hand away from his face. “Try actually getting a hard-on and we’ll talk. Asshole. I’m tryin’ to be serious here and you’re making jokes.”

“You think I would joke about you sucking my dick?” Mickey started to roll away from him and Ian laughed, settling himself firmly on Mickey’s body so he couldn’t move. “I’m sorry. Sorry. I appreciate the seriousness.” He ran a hand through Mickey’s hair, grazing his thumb against Mickey’s temple in a soothing gesture. “I love you,” he said honestly. “And if Terry ever got out of jail, I’d risk being rabid again and eat him.”

He laughed at that. “He probably won’t taste very good. Probably really bitter and gross.”

Ian shrugged. “I said I'd do anything for you. Even eat your gross tasting douchebag of a father.”

Mickey grinned. “Aw, you really do love me.” Ian smiled, nodding, and cuddled back into him. 

They still had a lot of issues to work through, but their relationship still felt as strong as it did before, maybe stronger. It was different now, with everything that had happened and everything that had changed, but if Mickey was willing to be as open as he was being, Ian thought they might actually work out this time.

**Author's Note:**

> As always, I appreciate any and all comments/kudos/critique you are willing to give me. Thanks for taking the time to read this!
> 
> If you want to chat, you can find me on tumblr at [ be-your-own-anchor5](http://www.be-your-own-anchor5.tumblr.com)


End file.
